Extra Long Weekend
This past Thursday and Friday, my wife treated me to a mini-vacation for my birthday. It was a trip to Port Hope, about an hour away from Toronto. Thursday was a matinee of Honeymoon for Three -- a comedy of sorts at their Capitol Theatre. The production was, well, longer than it should be, and not as fast it should have been. We stayed at a B&B, which was an interesting treat. The proprietor thought I wasn't "as stupid as I looked" -- which I suppose was his way of extending a warm welcome. My wife wasn't amused.
Port Hope is a little town on Lake Ontario, located at the western fringes of Northumberland County -- most will probably know it as the town that's outside of Coburg. It's home to the Ganaraska river and forest, named after the Iroquois village that was located on the site before the United Empire Loyalists arrived in the late 18th century. The town, like a lot of small towns in Ontario, takes pride in its colonial history. Quite a bit of money, time and effort gets expended in preserving the historic past that belonged to the Europeans that arrived.
It's a nice small town to spend a day or so exploring, going for long walks along the lake, and checking out the folks that call it home. My wife and I had lunch at the Dreamers Cafe and dinner at Los Sorbitos on Thursday -- both of which were pretty good. Los Sorbitos was sandwiched by two long walks -- the first along the lake, where we took a few photographs, and the last in what was probably Port Hope's suburbia. After breakfast at the B&B the following day, we did the driving tour of Port Hope (15-30 minutes), then hightailed it out of town. We ended up at the Northumberland mall -- yawn -- where I picked up a couple of Christmas presents. Afterwards, we went a little further east, and whole lot further north, taking highway 12 up to Lake Huron, then skirting around the lake to head into Barrie. After Barrie, we came home.
Saturday, we did the Toronto Street Festival. I parked at Eglinton, and my wife and I walked all the way down to Dundas. The Street Festival was a disappointment. I seemed to have become an excuse to move plastic chairs and tables into the middle of Yonge Street so beer drinkers can imbibe. I was unimpressed. So, from Dundas, my wife and I continued without taking a breather, down the Harbourfront Centre. The entire walk took us a couple of hours. This weekend at the Harbourfront Centre was the Beats, Breaks & Culture festival. We unfortunately had to listen to Jamie Lidell perform -- he was total excrement. The only act I wanted to see was Konono No. 1, all the way from the Congo. I saw them, and they were good -- but we left early. They seemed to have only one song, and it went on and on. That wasn't what had me out of there however. The audience drove me away. A bunch of white kids flailing around, completely out of sync with the music will do that to me -- especially since then had the urge to stand right in front of the stage and block the audience. Everyone seemed to have wanted to impress upon each other their capacity of ethnic sensitivity. Or maybe I'm just cynical.
Sunday, my wife and I drove down to Afrofest, which took up its temporary residence at Queens Park. We should have gone there on Saturday. There was much to see and enjoy in that little space than what we found at the Street Festival the previous day. There was music, dancing, lots of African crafts and clothing, and some of the best food in the world! I had some hot sauce that simply murdered my mouth. Taste buds packed their bags and just left. The best however was the fried plantain. I grew up eating that stuff, and knew they would have some there. I wasn't disappointed.
Port Hope is a little town on Lake Ontario, located at the western fringes of Northumberland County -- most will probably know it as the town that's outside of Coburg. It's home to the Ganaraska river and forest, named after the Iroquois village that was located on the site before the United Empire Loyalists arrived in the late 18th century. The town, like a lot of small towns in Ontario, takes pride in its colonial history. Quite a bit of money, time and effort gets expended in preserving the historic past that belonged to the Europeans that arrived.
It's a nice small town to spend a day or so exploring, going for long walks along the lake, and checking out the folks that call it home. My wife and I had lunch at the Dreamers Cafe and dinner at Los Sorbitos on Thursday -- both of which were pretty good. Los Sorbitos was sandwiched by two long walks -- the first along the lake, where we took a few photographs, and the last in what was probably Port Hope's suburbia. After breakfast at the B&B the following day, we did the driving tour of Port Hope (15-30 minutes), then hightailed it out of town. We ended up at the Northumberland mall -- yawn -- where I picked up a couple of Christmas presents. Afterwards, we went a little further east, and whole lot further north, taking highway 12 up to Lake Huron, then skirting around the lake to head into Barrie. After Barrie, we came home.
Saturday, we did the Toronto Street Festival. I parked at Eglinton, and my wife and I walked all the way down to Dundas. The Street Festival was a disappointment. I seemed to have become an excuse to move plastic chairs and tables into the middle of Yonge Street so beer drinkers can imbibe. I was unimpressed. So, from Dundas, my wife and I continued without taking a breather, down the Harbourfront Centre. The entire walk took us a couple of hours. This weekend at the Harbourfront Centre was the Beats, Breaks & Culture festival. We unfortunately had to listen to Jamie Lidell perform -- he was total excrement. The only act I wanted to see was Konono No. 1, all the way from the Congo. I saw them, and they were good -- but we left early. They seemed to have only one song, and it went on and on. That wasn't what had me out of there however. The audience drove me away. A bunch of white kids flailing around, completely out of sync with the music will do that to me -- especially since then had the urge to stand right in front of the stage and block the audience. Everyone seemed to have wanted to impress upon each other their capacity of ethnic sensitivity. Or maybe I'm just cynical.
Sunday, my wife and I drove down to Afrofest, which took up its temporary residence at Queens Park. We should have gone there on Saturday. There was much to see and enjoy in that little space than what we found at the Street Festival the previous day. There was music, dancing, lots of African crafts and clothing, and some of the best food in the world! I had some hot sauce that simply murdered my mouth. Taste buds packed their bags and just left. The best however was the fried plantain. I grew up eating that stuff, and knew they would have some there. I wasn't disappointed.
Sounds like Afrofest was definitely worth the trip
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